


Chronic

by blitzturtles



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Chronic Pain, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9869015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blitzturtles/pseuds/blitzturtles
Summary: Pain doesn’t ever leave him. Almost every second of every day is spent with some degree of it haunting Shiro, reminding him of the past. Anything from the small aches that come from abusing his body or the sensation of cartilage catching in his knee from an injury that probably should have been surgically repaired. He’s laid in puddles of his own blood too many times to think that it’s worth bringing up. If he can put one foot in front of the other, it doesn’t matter how much it hurts. There are more important things.





	

Pain doesn’t ever leave him. Almost every second of every day is spent with some degree of it haunting Shiro, reminding him of the past. Anything from the small aches that come from abusing his body or the sensation of cartilage catching in his knee from an injury that probably should have been surgically repaired. He’s laid in puddles of his own blood too many times to think that it’s worth bringing up. If he can put one foot in front of the other, it doesn’t matter how much it hurts. There are more important things.

The problem comes when he doesn’t have something to distract himself. No fight to lead. No supplies to gather. There aren’t even any things that he can help with around the Castle, so he’s left lying in the dark, fingers grasping and releasing the edge of his mattress. The material is already torn and fraying under his prosthetic from past incidents.

Shiro keeps turning over, from his back to his stomach and then on his back once more. He curls into a ball sometimes. Tries anything he can think to make it stop. Every attempt to distract himself fails. As if his mind knows that there isn’t truly anything urgent to focus on, so why not dwell in his own misery?

“Turn over,” the voice startles him into sitting up abruptly. His back screams at him to relax his muscles. He tries and rolls onto his stomach in the process.

Keith murmurs a soft apology. Then keeps talking, but Shiro doesn’t process much of what’s said to him. There’s a sudden burning warmth on either shoulder blade and his lower spine. Just hot enough to burn slightly against his skin, but not enough to do any actual damage.

Shiro groans softly, pressing his face into the sheets. “Where’dyougetthose?” He breathes out, words squished together from a combination of talking too fast and having his face buried.

“I made them,” Keith says simply. “And Hunk helped me reinforce the stitching so they’d last awhile.”

“I love you both,” Shiro closes his eyes. The pain is still there, but it’s not as bad. He doesn’t feel it radiating all the way around his back and to his chest, making every breath downright miserable.

Keith manages a small laugh while settling on the bed next to Shiro’s right arm. His finger start kneading at the muscles of Shiro’s upper arm, knowing the weight of the prosthetic often adds a lot of strain on those muscles.

“And here I thought I was number one,” he teases Shiro, working to distract him with both physical touch and playful words.

“Mm, maybe.”

Keith gives a small chuckle. He leans down, pressing a kiss to Shiro’s cheek. “Lance isn’t going to like that.”

That earns Keith a laugh from Shiro in return. 

It’s not perfect, but it’s something.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr (@blitzturtle) to talk about headcanons, prompt ideas, and general nonsense!


End file.
